a sister's worth
by potahtopotato
Summary: Ron and Ginny, through the years.


_Tutshill Tornados, Beater 1, prompt Ronald Weasley, extra prompts striped and Sickle, word count 1106_

Ron is born on the first of March. He's Molly and Arthur's sixth child, and by this time the two of them are well accustomed to the process. That day in the hospital, Molly doesn't bat an eye when her contractions increase both in intensity and in frequency, and Arthur is well-prepared with coffee and baked goods. Overall the whole thing goes fairly well, especially considering the mess that was Molly's last labor, what with the twins and all.

They've discussed this beforehand, acknowledged that the chances of the baby's being a girl are almost impossibly low. Still, when they sat at the kitchen table a few days prior flipping through a name book, they found themselves picking out a name for a girl as well. Just—well, just in case.

 _Veronica_ , Molly thinks now. _Oh, let it be Veronica._

It's not that she wouldn't love a Ronald—Molly loves all of her children more than anything, and she has no doubt that this one is going to be no different.

But, a little voice inside her points out, how many more times can she do this? Molly wants a daughter, and she's going to get a daughter, one way or another, but she really, really hopes that she won't have to go through this any more times. The thing is that labor hurts, pregnancy isn't exactly comfortable, and they have enough financial problems as it is.

"It's a boy!" the Healer says, grinning as she holds up the tiny, screaming baby.

Molly looks down at the thin, washed-out stripes of her hospital-issued gown, stretched awkwardly over her bloated body, and sighs. Arthur smiles from his post beside her bed and pulls her hand into his.

"Ron it is, then," he says. "Well, there's always a next time, right, Molly?"

Molly's eyes are affixed on the screaming child. He's larger than either of the twins was, red, and crying for all he's worth.

 _Ron_ , Molly thinks, and smiles for the first time in hours.

* * *

Ron is only a year old when Ginny's born, so he knows that even if he went today back to warn Past Ron about what would happen, he wouldn't have been able to stop it. _It_ being Ginny not only becoming the baby of the family but also the only girl, and therefore wiping the memory of his existence from his parents' minds, apparently.

It's not _fair_. Ron's not a girl, but neither is Bill, and Mum and Dad are _always_ talking about him and how he's already Quidditch Captain even though he's only in Fifth Year. Well, Ron can play Quidditch too, can't he? Not well, that is; he can never quite get to the goalposts in time, but he's only six years old, and the twins bat too hard.

And Charlie is the _best_ at Care of Magical Creatures, he's taken it since halfway through his first year because he kept sneaking out to look at all the animals until they let him. Mum said she was angry, but Ron thinks that she was secretly proud and just pretending to be mad. When Ron does something he's not supposed to, Mum doesn't have to pretend to be mad, because she really is.

Ron can go on for a while, about Percy and the twins, but at least he can see why Mum and Dad like them more than they like him. Ginny, though? Ginny is small and boring and a girl. Well—at least small and a girl. She does play with him a lot, and sometimes she even does what he says, so it's not too bad, but that doesn't make it fair.

Nothing is fair. And it never, ever will be.

* * *

Ginny's alive.

That's all that mattered a few hours ago, and it should be all that matters now. Except that Mum has somehow decided to blame them all for her worry—as though the rest of them weren't worried, as though Ron didn't willingly go fight a basilisk for Ginny. _Them all_ means the Weasleys currently at Hogwarts, who are currently standing in front of Ginny's hospital bed. It also means that Ron has spent the last fifteen minutes getting chewed out by his mother for not noticing something that the most powerful wizard in the world also had no idea about.

"—your own sister, Ron! I can't imagine what would have happened if it wasn't for Harry; she might have died just because you didn't notice that she was possessed by You-Know-Who himself for a year!"

Ron grits his teeth and shuts his mouth. Arguing that Ginny isn't actually his responsibility won't do any good. According to Mum, Ron changes ages every time he gets in trouble. Sometimes he's isn't old enough to go gallivanting off by himself in the terrible danger of tiny, rural Ottery St. Catchpole, and other times every war and disease in the world is his fault.

George snickers from beside him, and Ron elbows him sharply.

"And you!" Mum says, turning on him. "You're just as much to blame as he is! Heaven knows Ron's busy enough trying to keep Harry alive. What excuse do you have?"

George swallows, turning pale.

"That's what I thought. Doing nothing all year, look at your midterms, and too lazy even to check up with your sister once in a while! I've half a mind to take away your brooms this summer, see what it does for your attention to things out of Quidditch—"

"Mum!" Fred gasps. "Mum, no—"

"Oh, so now you care? Not when your sister's life was at stake?"

"Mum, you can't—"

Ron tunes them out easily, years of practice helpful as always.

He leans back a little onto the bed where Ginny is still presumably sleeping. He's tired, honestly, he thinks as he sits.

"Ron?" someone says, and Ron jumps before realizing that Ginny's woken up.

"Yeah?" he asks.

She looks very small, he notices. Ginny's never looked so tiny before before, even when she was; she's always had an aura of loudness, of health, of life. All that's been stripped away, and all that remains is a 12-year old girl with lots of freckles and a cracked-open expression.

"I thought—" Ginny's voice breaks, and Ron thinks she's going to cry for the second time in her life, but she collects herself. "I thought I was going to die."

"Yeah," Ron says, remembering that he has to be the responsible older brother for once. "I thought so too."

They sit for a second, and finally Ron remembers to say, "I'm glad you didn't."

Ginny laughs a little, and the expression goes away.

"I'm glad, too."


End file.
